Manipal

Somebody once asked me “What is home to you?”

At the time, I found the question to be quite simple, ridiculous even. Home was, well… Home. Where my mother would be found bustling around the house, juggling her job, while finnicking over mundane details such as the flower arrangement outside the main door. Home was where my father muttered in hushed, urgent tones during late night conference calls and was often found fast asleep on the couch, while Arnab Goswami continued ranting on the television. Home was where my brother could be found, flopped face-down, on his bed, during any given point in a day, with my dog nestled up in the strangest of nooks and crannies.

So when the time came to say farewell, to leave the comfort and familiarity of the city I grew up in and the streets that beckoned to me, I was warned by my friends and family alike; “You’ll be homesick the first few months. It’s alright, it happens to everybody. Stay strong.” Little did I know how rapidly and drastically my definition of home would change.

There are times in life where words are not enough to describe a place, where the use of adjectives seems somehow inadequate and the English language suddenly appears to be lacking. Manipal, is one such place for me.
Of course I had seen the brochures, the pictures on Facebook and Instagram, I had heard the stories, hell, I’d even come to campus once before for counselling. But when I arrived last summer, all packed up with my bags and mugs and buckets, I felt lost, humbled and consumed by the enormity that is Manipal.

By definition, Manipal is a small town. The population is well below 40,000, which seems like peanuts to a ‘city girl’. The serene beaches, the lush greenery and the welcoming coconut trees all seemed to embrace me as I stepped out of the taxi and onto the soft, humid soil. I was in awe of the campus, the academic buildings, the facilities, and the people. Oh, the people! There were hundreds of taxis, strapped with luggage, weaving their way through the hoards of carton-bearing, laundry-stand hauling students who all seemed to be as lost and confused as I was. Parents and relatives clambered around, trying to offer help, comfort and words of wisdom all at once. It was madness, it was chaos and I absolutely loved it.

The storm of move-in day was soon to be followed by a calm, as parents bid farewell, and the campus became relatively quiet once again. How was I to know that that would last for a good two minutes, before the shy knocks across the dorms began, and already people had begun socializing and making plans. Nobody wanted to be left out. In an hour it was decided that we would visit the beach, have lunch at Dollops, take a look at the multiplex and probably visit Pluto along the way. We were a bunch of over enthusiastic, eager freshers, just waiting to lap up all that Manipal had to offer. It soon became clear to us exactly how vast this ‘small town’ really is, and we unwillingly decided to take a step back, and take it slow. After all, we had four years to discover this place.
The trouble is, you think you have time. Over countless Oreo Shakes and Potato Lovers, Sunday breakfasts over Bread-Omelette-Toast at KC canteen, arguments over “Zeal ya Deetee?,” we grew up, and suddenly we were no longer the wide-eyed freshers who couldn’t tell the difference between Zebra Spot and SP. We could no longer put off plans with the excuse that we had four years to execute them, time was slipping away, frighteningly fast; almost faster than a first year after his fourth quarter at DeeTee.

Sometimes it seems difficult, impossible even, to imagine a life anywhere else but here, and it seems unreal to think that one day we will graduate (!) and leave this place, maybe for good. It frightens me to think that a day will come when I won’t be able to knock on my next door neighbor’s door and borrow an iron or a kettle, or bunk in my best friend’s room after a movie marathon the night before sessionals. That the heart-breaking goodbyes outside 13th block and the NLB will just be fond memories.

Three semesters at Manipal has taught me a lot. It has broadened my mind, and mostly made me more accepting of different viewpoints and opinions, the lack of which is the root cause for bloodshed in today’s world. Manipal is an experience, unique to every person. But I think I speak for everybody when I say this, we go back to our families for the holidays, but we come back home to Manipal.

Cover Picture by Paritosh Kullkarni

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